On Saturday I went to McNally Robinson Booksellers to get my free, Winnipeg-ized tarot card reading. As part of the Winnipeg Cultural Capital of Canada 2010 ARTS FOR ALL initiative The Winnipeg Tarot Company offered free readings for the month of October. And as an added twist to the paranormal, the readings were done with a special, Winnipeg-themed deck featuring all things iconic about my hometown.
I was the first customer of the day. I knew what I wanted the cards to give me insight on but I took a moment to carefully word my question. I've done this before, I know the tarot likes specific questions.
I was instructed to cut the deck three times and then re-stack it as I saw fit. The reader then dealt the spread and turned the cards over one by one as she explained their meanings.
My first two cards were the Diva and the Street Person. These cards were representative of my present.
"The Diva represents someone who is the star, the center of attention," the reader explained. The Street Person card represented poverty and financial struggles.
The next card was the nine of blizzards. It features a thin girl at one of those Winnipeg--One Great City signs stationed at the city limits. It's blowing snow and she is improperly dressed (this sounds totally like me huh?). This card represents a struggle, some hard work and tough times but also perseverance and toughness. With this card we were starting to look to my future.
The third card that came up was the Three of Floods, which depicted the Teddy Bears' Picnic.
"This card represents a collection of people from all walks of life coming together. The stream that you see running through the image represents a life force uniting these people together."
So far so good, the cards were giving me a very interesting response to my question. With the final card the reading was dead on.
"The Fool on Garbage Hill card represents the ultimate friendly Manitoban. Here he is standing high atop garbage hill, but if he falls, he never falls hard and he never falls very far."
The reading actually confirmed what my own intuition was telling me. I was pleasantly surprised by it.
"Okay, now I have one more card for you. You can ask another question and then I will turn it over and read it for you."
I again thought for a moment before voicing my question. "What does my future hold for me in love?" I asked.
The reader turned the card over and placed before me the Devil card.
"This card represents carnality and lust," she said and her eyes twinkled. She seemed to think this meant something very hot and passionate was in my future, but I saw something else entirely. That there, by my interpretation, was the sinful Homewrecker card that has been the thorn on my long stem Valentine rose for quite some time now. If the cards are in fact right, it's more married men and bored, betrothed boys licking their lips and regarding me as little more than a fun distraction. Ah well, I'll worry about the love thing later. There are many, many more cards in the deck for me to play right now.
Okay, the reading wasn't entirely free, actually. In exchange for the reading, patrons were asked to give a Winnipeg story--any story that comes from Winnipeg. I had thought about it for a bit and decided to talk about the support and love my family got from the Blue Bomber family this past summer when my uncle died, specifically Lorne, the team padre, and about being invited to the practice where we all went into the huddle together.
The reader gasped.. "What a beautiful story," she told me when I was done and I was pleased. It felt like a fair exchange of gifts.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The very hungry caterpillar is still hungry
I had a one hour appointment today with a life coach. She was one of the coupons in the Lifestyles pass I picked up this month.
I had some time to kill before my appointment so I wandered into a couple of Exchange District shops. The first one was a hat place. I looked around at the merchandise, touched it, picked it up, checked the price tags and put it down. A few I thought were interesting enough to try on and check out in the mirror.
"The tag goes to the back," the storekeeper said when he saw me trying on a large wool lid that seemed to have ear flaps. Aware I was being watched I shyly glanced in the mirror and then put the hat back.
There were toques, caps, fedoras, hats with pom poms and hats with feathers. Pink ones, blue ones, black ones, plaid and solid. None of them seemed me though.
"On Wednesday he ate through three plums, but he was still hungry"
--The Very Hungry Caterpillar
I found my way to the coach's office. It was in an old building with winding hallways and uneven floors. Her space was a small room with a desk by the windows and table and chairs by the door.
"So what brought you here today?" she began by asking.
I took a deep breath and struggled to get out my first sentence. She followed up with more questions that led up to the ultimate one.
"So what would you do if you removed all the barriers? All the fears, all the need for approval?"
I have been thinking about this question a lot over the past few months. Last week I found myself in the bookstore and even picked up Life Coaching for Dummies and started working through it. I had an answer but suddenly I was shy to say it out loud. So I talked around it, pretended like I was still exploring options. I tried to feel out what her reaction might be. I was hoping she'd say what I was thinking, like it was her idea first and I could just give an enthusiastic nod and grin. But that's not really how coaching works. It's hard to open up completely to someone you've only just met. And I've read that it can take time to find the right coach for you, the one you'll feel comfortable with, who gets you.
The session was not a waste though. I did let my heart speak a little bit and I saw how fears have been holding me back. There is no making a wrong decision, and making a big change doesn't mean having to bind and gag all your fears so you can jump head first into your choice. The way she described her approach to change sounded like a metamorphosis, a process gradual enough that it doesn't hurt or feel scary.
I am proud of this place I am in right now. I got myself here, but I did it all with the security of the approval from my family and friends. I am ready to start doing things on my own esteem now. I have my own legs, my own voice, my own funds. Things may not go the way I plan, but I have to be okay with that and hopefully they will stick by me anyway because that's when I will need them the most.
"The next day was Sunday again. The caterpillar ate through one nice green leaf and after that he felt much better. Now, he wasn't hungry anymore and he wasn't a little caterpillar anymore."
--The Very Hungry Caterpillar
I had some time to kill before my appointment so I wandered into a couple of Exchange District shops. The first one was a hat place. I looked around at the merchandise, touched it, picked it up, checked the price tags and put it down. A few I thought were interesting enough to try on and check out in the mirror.
"The tag goes to the back," the storekeeper said when he saw me trying on a large wool lid that seemed to have ear flaps. Aware I was being watched I shyly glanced in the mirror and then put the hat back.
There were toques, caps, fedoras, hats with pom poms and hats with feathers. Pink ones, blue ones, black ones, plaid and solid. None of them seemed me though.
"On Wednesday he ate through three plums, but he was still hungry"
--The Very Hungry Caterpillar
I found my way to the coach's office. It was in an old building with winding hallways and uneven floors. Her space was a small room with a desk by the windows and table and chairs by the door.
"So what brought you here today?" she began by asking.
I took a deep breath and struggled to get out my first sentence. She followed up with more questions that led up to the ultimate one.
"So what would you do if you removed all the barriers? All the fears, all the need for approval?"
I have been thinking about this question a lot over the past few months. Last week I found myself in the bookstore and even picked up Life Coaching for Dummies and started working through it. I had an answer but suddenly I was shy to say it out loud. So I talked around it, pretended like I was still exploring options. I tried to feel out what her reaction might be. I was hoping she'd say what I was thinking, like it was her idea first and I could just give an enthusiastic nod and grin. But that's not really how coaching works. It's hard to open up completely to someone you've only just met. And I've read that it can take time to find the right coach for you, the one you'll feel comfortable with, who gets you.
The session was not a waste though. I did let my heart speak a little bit and I saw how fears have been holding me back. There is no making a wrong decision, and making a big change doesn't mean having to bind and gag all your fears so you can jump head first into your choice. The way she described her approach to change sounded like a metamorphosis, a process gradual enough that it doesn't hurt or feel scary.
I am proud of this place I am in right now. I got myself here, but I did it all with the security of the approval from my family and friends. I am ready to start doing things on my own esteem now. I have my own legs, my own voice, my own funds. Things may not go the way I plan, but I have to be okay with that and hopefully they will stick by me anyway because that's when I will need them the most.
"The next day was Sunday again. The caterpillar ate through one nice green leaf and after that he felt much better. Now, he wasn't hungry anymore and he wasn't a little caterpillar anymore."
--The Very Hungry Caterpillar
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
New strength
Change is hard. For me, having a change handed to me isn't something that stresses me out much because I know that I always have the choice of take it or leave it. If I don't like the change I simply make a change myself and find my nearest exit point. I always thought that took strength, courage and resourcefulness.
The really hard kind of change though is the self-inflicted kind, like the promise you make to change your natural tendency so you can be better some how. It's hard when you have to be mindful of the behaviour so you can catch yourself and make the correction, choose the better reaction or behaviour. It's so much easier to just give up and let yourself be. Nobody's perfect, right? People just have to accept you, warts and all.
I wanted to stop being such a pill to my mom about looking after Elmo when my parents go away from time to time to a place where they can't bring him along. I make a big deal out of it every time and then I end up feeling terrible about it. Despite being aware of it, whenever my mom asks if I'll take him I still make it known that I am not looking forward to the responsibility.
This time she said to me, "Well fine then, I'll put him in a kennel and he'll get so stressed out he'll have a heart attack and die". I told her I didn't believe that would happen.
Why do I get all worked up about this so much anyway? Guilt. The entire situation is sauced in it. First my mom has to "ask" me if I can take the dog. I know she feels bad because I really don't have a choice but to say yes because she has no one else to go to. I have to say yes because she is my mother, she still takes care of me and who am I to deny her a weekend away? Say no and I am ungrateful and mean.
When the time comes for Elmo to stay he is usually good company. He's happy to see me when I get home and he has a cute snore when he's sleeping. But when I have to leave and go somewhere without him he gets upset. He trembles and tries to climb into my lap in protest. Or sometimes he just annoys me. Like when he doesn't want to come inside from his morning pee break and I am trying to leave for work. Or when he wakes me up at three am to go outside and it's minus forty and I have to put on my jacket and shoes and walk him to the back gate and wait for him so I can walk him back inside. Or when he won't go to sleep because he's heard a noise or is just afraid of the dark and he whines and pants and paws at my bed. Or how he always wants a cookie and always slops a big puddle of water on the floor when he drinks. And I get mad. Sometimes I just get so tired, frustrated and mad. And then I feel guilty and awful for being mad at a dog who is just being a dog and doesn't deserve my mad energy. When he's actually pretty good for the whole weekend I still feel bad because I made such a fuss about taking him in the first place. That dog makes me throw daggers at myself. He becomes a mirror for all this yuckiness inside of me--my impatience, my selfishness, my lack of maternal instincts and my absolute need for seven hours of solid sleep.
I didn't want Elmo. Not at all. I remember when our first family dog died. I was ten or eleven and it broke my heart. I never wanted to feel that awful pain again. A few years later I came home from my part-time job one day to a puppy traipsing around in our back yard. My mom and my sister had picked him out. I quickly fell in love with him (except on the days he ate my text book and my shoes). But from day one, and in the many days that followed since then, my mind has gone to that dark place to remind me that one day he's going to get sick and will need to be put down. Every year on his birthday I do the morbid math: average life expectancy for a dog is 14 years, subtract current age to get number of years left with this precious fur ball of unconditional love. He turned eleven this year.
Extreme guilt. Horrible pain. That's what I'm trying to run away from, kicking and pouting the whole way. How do I face and change that?
I have committed myself to exploring the concept of acceptance. Instead of questioning why I'm here, why I'm not there, when this will happen or why now, I am practicing taking deep breaths and facing my anxiety by coming to terms with the present.
I have a calendar at work that has a word for the month of October: optibitious. I don't know if it's a real word. I tried looking it up in the dictionary and online but my search turned up nothing. For each month the calendar features a different ad or marketing agency's selected word of the year. I wouldn't really put it past them to just make something up. Anyway, I like the word optibitious. It means (allegedly) going forth with an unrestrained determination to succeed, regardless of the odds or environment. I love the word because it is me. I want to be optibitious every single day. But with such ambition and heart comes a certain amount of pain when things don't turn out despite oozing optibitiousness. (Just because I work in a cardboard box factory doesn't mean I can't make stuff up too you know.) So I took that word and I took my promise to change and do better and I wrote this on a Post-It note as my new daily mantra:
On November 20 when Elmo comes to my house I will be repeating this mantra over and over and over. Maybe the old dog can teach me some new tricks about enjoying the present.
The really hard kind of change though is the self-inflicted kind, like the promise you make to change your natural tendency so you can be better some how. It's hard when you have to be mindful of the behaviour so you can catch yourself and make the correction, choose the better reaction or behaviour. It's so much easier to just give up and let yourself be. Nobody's perfect, right? People just have to accept you, warts and all.
I wanted to stop being such a pill to my mom about looking after Elmo when my parents go away from time to time to a place where they can't bring him along. I make a big deal out of it every time and then I end up feeling terrible about it. Despite being aware of it, whenever my mom asks if I'll take him I still make it known that I am not looking forward to the responsibility.
This time she said to me, "Well fine then, I'll put him in a kennel and he'll get so stressed out he'll have a heart attack and die". I told her I didn't believe that would happen.
Why do I get all worked up about this so much anyway? Guilt. The entire situation is sauced in it. First my mom has to "ask" me if I can take the dog. I know she feels bad because I really don't have a choice but to say yes because she has no one else to go to. I have to say yes because she is my mother, she still takes care of me and who am I to deny her a weekend away? Say no and I am ungrateful and mean.
When the time comes for Elmo to stay he is usually good company. He's happy to see me when I get home and he has a cute snore when he's sleeping. But when I have to leave and go somewhere without him he gets upset. He trembles and tries to climb into my lap in protest. Or sometimes he just annoys me. Like when he doesn't want to come inside from his morning pee break and I am trying to leave for work. Or when he wakes me up at three am to go outside and it's minus forty and I have to put on my jacket and shoes and walk him to the back gate and wait for him so I can walk him back inside. Or when he won't go to sleep because he's heard a noise or is just afraid of the dark and he whines and pants and paws at my bed. Or how he always wants a cookie and always slops a big puddle of water on the floor when he drinks. And I get mad. Sometimes I just get so tired, frustrated and mad. And then I feel guilty and awful for being mad at a dog who is just being a dog and doesn't deserve my mad energy. When he's actually pretty good for the whole weekend I still feel bad because I made such a fuss about taking him in the first place. That dog makes me throw daggers at myself. He becomes a mirror for all this yuckiness inside of me--my impatience, my selfishness, my lack of maternal instincts and my absolute need for seven hours of solid sleep.
I didn't want Elmo. Not at all. I remember when our first family dog died. I was ten or eleven and it broke my heart. I never wanted to feel that awful pain again. A few years later I came home from my part-time job one day to a puppy traipsing around in our back yard. My mom and my sister had picked him out. I quickly fell in love with him (except on the days he ate my text book and my shoes). But from day one, and in the many days that followed since then, my mind has gone to that dark place to remind me that one day he's going to get sick and will need to be put down. Every year on his birthday I do the morbid math: average life expectancy for a dog is 14 years, subtract current age to get number of years left with this precious fur ball of unconditional love. He turned eleven this year.
Extreme guilt. Horrible pain. That's what I'm trying to run away from, kicking and pouting the whole way. How do I face and change that?
I have committed myself to exploring the concept of acceptance. Instead of questioning why I'm here, why I'm not there, when this will happen or why now, I am practicing taking deep breaths and facing my anxiety by coming to terms with the present.
I have a calendar at work that has a word for the month of October: optibitious. I don't know if it's a real word. I tried looking it up in the dictionary and online but my search turned up nothing. For each month the calendar features a different ad or marketing agency's selected word of the year. I wouldn't really put it past them to just make something up. Anyway, I like the word optibitious. It means (allegedly) going forth with an unrestrained determination to succeed, regardless of the odds or environment. I love the word because it is me. I want to be optibitious every single day. But with such ambition and heart comes a certain amount of pain when things don't turn out despite oozing optibitiousness. (Just because I work in a cardboard box factory doesn't mean I can't make stuff up too you know.) So I took that word and I took my promise to change and do better and I wrote this on a Post-It note as my new daily mantra:
I optibitiously accept this day as an opportunity to live, love, learn and grow.
On November 20 when Elmo comes to my house I will be repeating this mantra over and over and over. Maybe the old dog can teach me some new tricks about enjoying the present.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
More blogging adventures coming soon
I haven't stopped eating pumpkin since Thanksgiving. It is a lovely vegetable. Most recently I tried it in a chili recipe. Not so great. There are two things that I have not been able to cook successfully in my house that I used to ace at my mom's and dad's--chili and peanut butter cookies. But I digress. The point I was trying to make is that I have been eating a lot of pumpkin, and, seemingly simultaneously, I've been signing up for new things and taking chances like I'm due to kick the bucket in six months.
In November I'll be attending something called Goose Bump Songs:
This event will begin with relaxed breathing and gentle stretches that will prepare our bodies and minds for being in the moment. After participants get to know each other they will each share some music they have brought along that deeply inspires them or makes them feel deep emotions of some kind. Over a hot cup of tea, music sharing will be followed by a discussion of how the music makes you feel and the role of music in your life, leaving you feel relaxed and inspired to take more time for the things you love.
I am supposed to choose my song ahead of time so I can advise the organizer of its length. How do I pick one song? What should my criteria be? Do I pick the song that fills me up with energy and sunshine? My favourite yoga balance track? A song that grips my heart and brings me to my knees? Something with memorable lyrics?
My dad sent me a notice that the art supply store is hosting a painting class where someone will instruct the class, in one day, how to paint THIS:
I want mine to look just like that. I should get that seems how I am paying $63 for the class when I could have gone out and purchased a pair of the same shoes.
And when Amara and I were out for our weekend walk she told me about the Lifestyle Pass she got as a birthday gift recently. Forty bucks gets you a booklet of coupons for things like free yoga classes, $15 off a massage, free fitness analysis, life coach sessions, and lots of 2 for 1 deals on other health, wellness and beauty things. Feeling completely overwhelmed by the number of interesting looking and affordable opportunities, I took to compiling them in a spreadsheet and have started planning a schedule for cashing in. I see a lot of hot yoga in my future. I don't really love hot yoga. But I do love free!
In November I'll be attending something called Goose Bump Songs:
This event will begin with relaxed breathing and gentle stretches that will prepare our bodies and minds for being in the moment. After participants get to know each other they will each share some music they have brought along that deeply inspires them or makes them feel deep emotions of some kind. Over a hot cup of tea, music sharing will be followed by a discussion of how the music makes you feel and the role of music in your life, leaving you feel relaxed and inspired to take more time for the things you love.
I am supposed to choose my song ahead of time so I can advise the organizer of its length. How do I pick one song? What should my criteria be? Do I pick the song that fills me up with energy and sunshine? My favourite yoga balance track? A song that grips my heart and brings me to my knees? Something with memorable lyrics?
My dad sent me a notice that the art supply store is hosting a painting class where someone will instruct the class, in one day, how to paint THIS:
I want mine to look just like that. I should get that seems how I am paying $63 for the class when I could have gone out and purchased a pair of the same shoes.
And when Amara and I were out for our weekend walk she told me about the Lifestyle Pass she got as a birthday gift recently. Forty bucks gets you a booklet of coupons for things like free yoga classes, $15 off a massage, free fitness analysis, life coach sessions, and lots of 2 for 1 deals on other health, wellness and beauty things. Feeling completely overwhelmed by the number of interesting looking and affordable opportunities, I took to compiling them in a spreadsheet and have started planning a schedule for cashing in. I see a lot of hot yoga in my future. I don't really love hot yoga. But I do love free!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Que Sera, Serendipity
I checked the TV guide this morning to find something to watch while I was waiting for my mom to serve up some blueberry pancakes and I decided to tune into David Suzuki's The Nature of Things. I haven't seen that show in years but the description sounded interesting.
It turned out that it was an episode dedicated to the idea of serendipity in scientific discovery--like how penicillin was an accidental discover, and the technology behind the microwave oven, the idea behind Velcro and the discovery that turned heart medication into today's Viagra.
The fact that these discoveries were made accidentally is interesting enough, but the show looked more into all the factors that contribute to a serendipitous discovery. For instance, Dr. Alexander Flemming, who discovered penicillin, was known for his sloppiness, creativity and absent-mindedness. His discovery of penicillin happened after he forgot and left a dish of staphylococcus bacteria in his lab for a few days. When he found it, he noticed that the dish dotted with bacterial growth, apart from one area where a patch of mould (Penicillin notatum) was growing. The mould produced a substance, named penicillin by Fleming, which inhibited bacterial growth and was later found to be effective against a wide range of harmful bacteria.
Sloppiness and absent-mindedness are not great qualities for anyone, never mind a scientist, but they helped Flemming make one of medicine's most important discoveries. It's not a reason to consider trying to pick up bad habits, but it does seem like another good reason to embrace all your quirks and faults as part of what makes you, you.
The program went on to explore the type of people who have a tendency to experience serendipity--a propensity for making fortunate discoveries while looking for something unrelated. They are naturally curious and open to trying new things. They are creative and will find themselves in unique situations where the new information will present itself.
Serendipity is one of my favourite words. I love the idea of it and I love, love the movie. I'm always on the look out for serendipity in my life, using it to make sense of the path I've followed. Lisa calls me a romantic, which seems to go with this whole "meant to be" idea that I had thought was what serendipity was all about. Catching that show today was rather serendipitous and got me thinking differently about my list of things I sometimes think I need to improve or change--like being a romantic and idealist which annoys me when they seem to only cause disappointment and frustration. Who's to say that they haven't also had significant impacts on my life so far, that they haven't carried me to my success to date?
After the show I went on to the CBC website to try to find the episode online so I could watch parts of it again and note down some interesting quotes. It wasn't available though because apparently the episode was actually a repeat; it originally aired July 25, 2010. I was just lucky to catch it this time. While poking around the CBC documentaries section I found a feature on Google, watched it, and got some new inspiration for some ideas I had. It also reminded me that somewhere in my house I have my treasured freebee Google t-shirt that I got when I visited Google in 2005, and I could wear it this week to work while we have casual days in support of United Way. Have some fun and think about it, how did you get to where you are sitting today? How did you happen to meet me here?
It turned out that it was an episode dedicated to the idea of serendipity in scientific discovery--like how penicillin was an accidental discover, and the technology behind the microwave oven, the idea behind Velcro and the discovery that turned heart medication into today's Viagra.
The fact that these discoveries were made accidentally is interesting enough, but the show looked more into all the factors that contribute to a serendipitous discovery. For instance, Dr. Alexander Flemming, who discovered penicillin, was known for his sloppiness, creativity and absent-mindedness. His discovery of penicillin happened after he forgot and left a dish of staphylococcus bacteria in his lab for a few days. When he found it, he noticed that the dish dotted with bacterial growth, apart from one area where a patch of mould (Penicillin notatum) was growing. The mould produced a substance, named penicillin by Fleming, which inhibited bacterial growth and was later found to be effective against a wide range of harmful bacteria.
Sloppiness and absent-mindedness are not great qualities for anyone, never mind a scientist, but they helped Flemming make one of medicine's most important discoveries. It's not a reason to consider trying to pick up bad habits, but it does seem like another good reason to embrace all your quirks and faults as part of what makes you, you.
The program went on to explore the type of people who have a tendency to experience serendipity--a propensity for making fortunate discoveries while looking for something unrelated. They are naturally curious and open to trying new things. They are creative and will find themselves in unique situations where the new information will present itself.
Serendipity is one of my favourite words. I love the idea of it and I love, love the movie. I'm always on the look out for serendipity in my life, using it to make sense of the path I've followed. Lisa calls me a romantic, which seems to go with this whole "meant to be" idea that I had thought was what serendipity was all about. Catching that show today was rather serendipitous and got me thinking differently about my list of things I sometimes think I need to improve or change--like being a romantic and idealist which annoys me when they seem to only cause disappointment and frustration. Who's to say that they haven't also had significant impacts on my life so far, that they haven't carried me to my success to date?
After the show I went on to the CBC website to try to find the episode online so I could watch parts of it again and note down some interesting quotes. It wasn't available though because apparently the episode was actually a repeat; it originally aired July 25, 2010. I was just lucky to catch it this time. While poking around the CBC documentaries section I found a feature on Google, watched it, and got some new inspiration for some ideas I had. It also reminded me that somewhere in my house I have my treasured freebee Google t-shirt that I got when I visited Google in 2005, and I could wear it this week to work while we have casual days in support of United Way. Have some fun and think about it, how did you get to where you are sitting today? How did you happen to meet me here?
Monday, October 11, 2010
What a turkey
Wow. Oh my. Really? Did that weekend just happen?
All the best parts of this Thanksgiving long weekend are un-bloggable. Stupid, I know. It's becoming so that it's hardly worth to pay the rights for the domain name anymore.
On Friday I found myself with free tickets to the football game. I knew someone, a guy someone, who likes football so I took the chance, at Amara's urging (thanks Amara), and asked him if he'd want to go. He said no, but only because he already has season tickets with his dad (aww).
Sunday was thanksgiving dinner with my family. I still can't believe it's that time of year already. Next time we get together like this it will be all snow and mistletoe. Mmm I love pumpkin pie. And turkey. And wine. And coffee and Bailey's (cheers to you, Uncle).
Today I had pumpkin french toast with my mommy--yummy. I made more pumpkin goodness and then I headed over to Judy's for some wine, girl talk and a trip to the football game.
"And maybe after the game we can have some more wine with Frère Jacques," Judy suggested via text message when we were setting up the plans. Frere Jacques would be my Jillstory name for this Quebecquois guy she's trying to set me up with.
Judy had one of her guy friends over when I got there, but it wasn't FJ. It was this other guy I'd met two years ago when I went to his place with Judy for a Grey Cup party. Apparently he remembers me. Apparently he's going through some kind of mid-life crisis and wants me to, ahem, join him. (Would you believe this was the second such invite I had this weekend? Really weird stuff the Universe is throwing at me these days.)
"Here's my number," he said, and rattled it off to me to enter into my phone. "Now send me a text message."
Duh, he wanted my number. Judy rolled her eyes. "I'll send you a message after the game with the final score," I said. I'm too young for a mid-life crisis.
Judy and I went to the game and sat waaaay up where the airplanes fly. When it looked like the home team was about to log yet another loss, we decided to start the trek down to ground level and hike it back to Truck so as to beat the mad rush. We heard the crowd get all excited as we left the gates but I didn't think to turn around and look at the jumbotron for the replay or the score. We got in Truck and all of a sudden we had a football game on. We were tied. We were in overtime. We were handed a huge advantage when BC lost their cool and took yet another stupid penalty. I pulled up to Judy's place and we listened to the last three minutes of the game on the radio (which equalled 10 real time minutes). I wanted to turn it off so many times because I get very anxious when I'm watching or listening to close games, but I had Judy there with me so I endured my nerves. And then we won. It was the most amazing game of the season and we left early! How I am going to explain myself to Super Fan Season Ticket dude I don't know, but that's a concern I will put aside for now. No, I did not send a post-game text to Mid-Life-Crisis dude, he's got enough problems on his own. His girlfriend kicked him out of the house that afternoon.
All the best parts of this Thanksgiving long weekend are un-bloggable. Stupid, I know. It's becoming so that it's hardly worth to pay the rights for the domain name anymore.
On Friday I found myself with free tickets to the football game. I knew someone, a guy someone, who likes football so I took the chance, at Amara's urging (thanks Amara), and asked him if he'd want to go. He said no, but only because he already has season tickets with his dad (aww).
Boo indeed. But feel good about being cool enough to ask him.Saturday I spent baking a variety of pumpkin-flavoured goods with my mom. I missed getting to the gym that day so I went for a jog outside instead. It's October but this weekend felt like July with the warm daytime highs and even some warm, summer-like evenings. I think that's the reason I had my best outside run ever. That or pumpkin is a super-food with anti-inflammatory and oxygen-enhancing properties.
He's thinking about you right now, you know! I'm sure of it.
--Amara via email on Friday afternoon
Sunday was thanksgiving dinner with my family. I still can't believe it's that time of year already. Next time we get together like this it will be all snow and mistletoe. Mmm I love pumpkin pie. And turkey. And wine. And coffee and Bailey's (cheers to you, Uncle).
Today I had pumpkin french toast with my mommy--yummy. I made more pumpkin goodness and then I headed over to Judy's for some wine, girl talk and a trip to the football game.
"And maybe after the game we can have some more wine with Frère Jacques," Judy suggested via text message when we were setting up the plans. Frere Jacques would be my Jillstory name for this Quebecquois guy she's trying to set me up with.
Judy had one of her guy friends over when I got there, but it wasn't FJ. It was this other guy I'd met two years ago when I went to his place with Judy for a Grey Cup party. Apparently he remembers me. Apparently he's going through some kind of mid-life crisis and wants me to, ahem, join him. (Would you believe this was the second such invite I had this weekend? Really weird stuff the Universe is throwing at me these days.)
"Here's my number," he said, and rattled it off to me to enter into my phone. "Now send me a text message."
Duh, he wanted my number. Judy rolled her eyes. "I'll send you a message after the game with the final score," I said. I'm too young for a mid-life crisis.
Judy and I went to the game and sat waaaay up where the airplanes fly. When it looked like the home team was about to log yet another loss, we decided to start the trek down to ground level and hike it back to Truck so as to beat the mad rush. We heard the crowd get all excited as we left the gates but I didn't think to turn around and look at the jumbotron for the replay or the score. We got in Truck and all of a sudden we had a football game on. We were tied. We were in overtime. We were handed a huge advantage when BC lost their cool and took yet another stupid penalty. I pulled up to Judy's place and we listened to the last three minutes of the game on the radio (which equalled 10 real time minutes). I wanted to turn it off so many times because I get very anxious when I'm watching or listening to close games, but I had Judy there with me so I endured my nerves. And then we won. It was the most amazing game of the season and we left early! How I am going to explain myself to Super Fan Season Ticket dude I don't know, but that's a concern I will put aside for now. No, I did not send a post-game text to Mid-Life-Crisis dude, he's got enough problems on his own. His girlfriend kicked him out of the house that afternoon.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Kiss my cotton candy
My day started with my closet having a temper tantrum that resulted in clothes scattered all over my room. I dashed for the bus in heels and a pencil skirt that didn't match. Ugh. I need a new brown tweed skirt. The old man in the mall still told me I looked very nice.
Work is chaos right now and that stresses me right out. I recently introduced a new process for getting work done and today started a numeric and colour-coded filing system. I went to my manager holding the pink and orange files close to my heart and said, "filing soothes my soul."
For lunch I thought I had packed a container of my spinach and lentils casserole but upon opening the lid discovered that I actually had cream of cauliflower soup. I dumped the 3/4-full, tall yogurt container of soup into a large bowl, heated it up and grabbed a spoon.
Just before lunch I'd slicked my lips with some lip gloss because they were feeling dry. The gloss was supposed to be cotton candy flavored, or rather, Christian Dior's interpretation of cotton candy flavour. Do you know what cotton candy is called in French? Barbe à papa, literally, Father's beard. Christian Dior took all this and cleverly named their light pink, sparkly lip gloss Cotton Daddy. Do you remember reading the Barbapapa children's books with the big pink fluffy character? That's the color of the lip gloss. Anyway, the flavor of the gloss is not very tasty and does not at all complement cream of cauliflower soup. I doubt that it would have improved upon the flavouring of the lentils dish either.
Look! Fireplace!
Work is chaos right now and that stresses me right out. I recently introduced a new process for getting work done and today started a numeric and colour-coded filing system. I went to my manager holding the pink and orange files close to my heart and said, "filing soothes my soul."
For lunch I thought I had packed a container of my spinach and lentils casserole but upon opening the lid discovered that I actually had cream of cauliflower soup. I dumped the 3/4-full, tall yogurt container of soup into a large bowl, heated it up and grabbed a spoon.
Just before lunch I'd slicked my lips with some lip gloss because they were feeling dry. The gloss was supposed to be cotton candy flavored, or rather, Christian Dior's interpretation of cotton candy flavour. Do you know what cotton candy is called in French? Barbe à papa, literally, Father's beard. Christian Dior took all this and cleverly named their light pink, sparkly lip gloss Cotton Daddy. Do you remember reading the Barbapapa children's books with the big pink fluffy character? That's the color of the lip gloss. Anyway, the flavor of the gloss is not very tasty and does not at all complement cream of cauliflower soup. I doubt that it would have improved upon the flavouring of the lentils dish either.
Look! Fireplace!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)